


Little Red Fíli

by ItalianHobbit



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Before Kíli, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Fíli and Kíli's father is alive, Gen, Laughing Thorin, No Angst, Pregnant Dís, Uncle Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3266396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItalianHobbit/pseuds/ItalianHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dís is pregnant, tired, and cranky, and her brother and her husband are taking care of Fíli. Also in which Dís learns to never trust either Thorin or Jóli with the care of her son ever again. Goofy little oneshot for the Feels for Fíli Campaign on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Red Fíli

**Author's Note:**

> YO. So this is for the Feels For Fíli Campaign on tumblr, prompt #6—Halloween/Autumn! I decided to do something that had to do with costumes. I don't know what kind of holidays they have in autumn in the Blue Mountains in which they dress up, but they've got something. Go with it. Anyway, this is 100% free of angst, so enjoy.

It was the sound of her brother laughing that first made Dís suspicious.

Not just laughing;  _giggling_. Her  _brother_  was  _giggling_. The sound was so strange that at first, Dís had thought there was a stranger in her home, but then she heard the deep rumble of Thorin's voice and put two and two together. Dís could not remember having heard her brother giggling since he was a young boy.

"Thorin?" she called, though she did not move. Bed rest was what she needed right now, she had been told. She was supposed to rest as much as possible until the baby was born. Fíli had been easy—she had breezed through the pregnancy, only becoming uncomfortable near the end. This one, on the other hand, was determined to be problematic. She had had aches and pains from the very beginning, and as the child grew, it seemed determined to kick her insides as much as possible. Some nights she could only sleep because Jóli remained awake, rubbing her stomach to soothe the baby. This child was going to be a wild one—Dís could tell.

No answer from her brother. Dís furrowed her brow as she heard the giggling again and considered getting up until a kick to her ribs convinced her otherwise.

"My goodness, child, settle down!" she said to her belly, rubbing at the spot where she had felt the other foot. There was some movement, but for now, there were no little feet poking where they shouldn't be. She sighed and stared at the door, twisting her lips.

"Thorin?" she called again. "Jóli?"

The sound of her husband shushing her brother came to her ears, and her curiosity grew too great. She had to see what they were doing. Slowly, she pulled herself out of bed and made her way out of the room. What were they doing? They were supposed to be watching Fíli…

Dís heard another sound now—a quickly-hushed protest from a certain little boy. She paused and listened intently; clearly, her brother and her husband were in Fíli's room, and whatever they were doing, they didn't want Dís to hear. Well, they were too late for that. She heard a high-pitched childish whimper, and immediately her pace quickened. She rounded the corner in the hall to find Jóli standing there, his hands out, blocking her way.

"Hello, my beautiful wife," he said, flashing a sunny grin. His brown eyes twinkled.

"Don't even start, you," Dís said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I heard my brother giggling, and I heard Fíli, too. What are you doing to my son?"

"If you'll recall, my dear, Fíli is  _our_  son," said Jóli. "But, I mean, given the circumstances, I suppose I could forgive your forgetfulness—"

"The  _circumstances_?" Dís said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. "And what  _circumstances_  are those, may I ask?"

"Well, uh…" Jóli said nervously, leaning backward as he caught the look in his wife's eyes. "I—I mean, you know, s-sometimes they say… that, well, uh—"

"Are you saying that the fact that I'm  _pregnant_  has made me  _forget_  that  _you_  had a hand in Fíli's being? Or the little kicker in my womb at this very moment, for that matter?" said Dís, resting a hand on her belly and the restless child underneath. "Because believe me, I haven't forgotten anything of the sort.  _What are you doing to my son?_ "

"He's perfectly fine, Dís," called Thorin from Fíli's room further down the hall. However, not a moment later, a sharp wail pierced through the air.

" _Mama!_ "

Dís attempted to dive past her husband, but Jóli held her back.

"Dís, he's just fine, I promise," Jóli said, his voice wavering with suppressed laughter. "I swear to you, he's fine. You should go rest. Think of the baby."

"I  _am_  thinking of the baby! I'm thinking of my Fíli!" Dís retorted, pushing at her husband's strong arms. "What are you doing to him?"

"We—we just… found something—"

"Jóli, no!" came Thorin's voice from the other room over another one of Fíli's wails. "N-no, don't t-tell her—" He erupted into laughter, real laughter straight from his belly, like Dís hadn't heard in years. Fíli continued to wail.

"I swear, Jóli son of Víli, if you do not let me pass  _right now_ , you will be sleeping on the couch for the  _rest of your life_!" Dís shouted, and Jóli immediately gave way. Dís moved past him and into her son's bedroom. What she beheld made her stop in her tracks.

Fíli stood miserably in the middle of the room, stuffed into a round, bright red apple costume, complete with a stem-and-leaf hat strapped to his head. Thorin lay on Fíli's little bed, one hand on his stomach and the other over his eyes, his chest bouncing with silent laughter. Dís gaped, first at Thorin, then at her son; Fíli's wailing started anew when he saw his mother, his face turning as red as the costume he wore.

"M-mama, I c-can't  _move_ ," Fíli cried, wiggling his arms helplessly; they stuck out straight from either side, so round was the costume, and his ankles could barely be seen. He waddled over to his mother as quickly as he could and ran into her, his front bouncing off her leg and sending him to the floor. Thorin, who had uncovered his eyes just in time to see, doubled over, laughing even harder than before; Jóli joined in uproariously from behind.

"Look, Dís, he waddles just like you," Jóli said breathlessly.

"Oh, Fíli, my darling!" Dís cried, bending as best she could to pick up her son. Her belly got in the way, however, and Fíli was left rolling around on the floor, screeching. Jóli ran forward and lifted the boy to his feet, still guffawing, and Fíli pushed out of his arms with another screech.

"I don't  _like_  this costume!" Fíli wailed. "Mama, I wanna take it off!"

"Thorin and Jóli, why on  _earth_  did you do this?" Dís exclaimed, squatting and reaching out for Fíli. He waddled into her arms and she lifted him up, setting him on her round stomach. "Where did you even  _get_  a costume like this?"

"I saw it at a shop," Jóli said, wiping tears out of his eyes. "I thought it would be funny—"

"You think it's  _funny_  to let your son  _suffer_?" Dís said, pulling the little cap off Fíli's head. He attempted to lean into her, but the girth of the costume got in the way. Thorin started giggling again. "What is  _wrong_  with you?"

"Oh, come on, Dís, look at him!" Thorin said. "You have to admit, it's quite adorable…"

"Is that why you're laughing, dear brother?" Dís said.

"Well, n-no," Thorin said, hiding his wide grin behind his hand. "But seriously, Dís,  _look_  at him—"

"Get my poor child out of this costume straightaway!" Dís said, glaring at Jóli. With a final chuckle, Jóli took Fíli out of his wife's arms and stood him up on the bed. Fíli's face gradually returned to its normal shade and he hiccupped tearfully as Thorin and Jóli worked to pull him out of the round costume. Dís watched with her arms folded, leaning against the door; she was too tired for standing anymore. She wanted to lie down. Finally, Fíli was free from the wretched costume and stood on the bed in his underpants, pouting fiercely. He looked up at his mother with soulfully shining blue eyes, and Dís pressed her lips together, fighting a smile.

"Put a shirt on him and give him to me," she said.

Jóli looked up at Dís with his wide brown eyes. "Oh, come on, Dís—"

"I don't trust you two numbskulls with my son," she said. "I will take care of him for the rest of the afternoon."

"Sis, you don't have to do that," said Thorin, the silly grin wiped off his face. "Really, he'll be fine…"

"I w-wanna stay with Mama," Fíli piped up. His shoulders bounced dramatically as he sniffled. "I d-don't wanna wear the a-apple. I-I can't move in it."

"You can rest in bed with me, love," said Dís. She glared at her brother and her husband. "Dress him.  _Now_."

Reluctantly, Jóli pulled a shirt out of one of Fíli's dresser drawers and fit it over his son's head. As soon as it was on, Fíli hopped off the bed, running to his mother as fast as his bare little legs could take him. He crashed into her thigh and held on tight, pressing his face into her side. She rubbed a hand soothingly over his back and looked up stormily at the two grown Dwarves before her.

"Let's go, Fíli," she said. "Let's get away from these silly grown-ups, shall we?" She held out her hand, and Fíli took hold of two of her fingers. She led him down the hall after one final glare at Thorin and Jóli; when she made it to the room that she and Jóli shared, Fíli let go and hopped up onto the bed, his mood completely renewed.

"Are we gonna cuddle, Mama?" he said.

"Yes, my love, we can cuddle," said Dís, climbing back onto her bed with a strained sigh. The baby was kicking again. She slid under the covers, and Fíli followed, curling up at her side immediately. He sighed happily and closed his eyes.

"Thank you, Mama," he said. "I  _really_  didn't like that costume."

"I know you didn't, baby," said Dís. "Good thing your old mum was there to rescue you, eh?"

Fíli giggled. "You're not old, Mama!" he said, lifting his head. "You're still pretty."

Dís chuckled at that. "Would you believe your mum is a hundred and three years old?"

Fíli's eyes grew comically wide and his jaw dropped. "No you're not!"

"I most certainly am," said Dís, smiling at the disbelieving look on her son's face. "One hundred and  _three_. Do you believe me?"

"No," Fíli said, grinning, though he looked unsure. "That's  _old_!"

"Well, like I said, I'm your old mum," said Dís, tickling Fíli's sides. He squirmed and giggled, pressing his head into her shoulder. Then he wrapped his arms around her neck and lay still, breathing in deeply. He often did this when he was content, taking in the scent of whoever he was close to and just enjoying being close. Dís rubbed his back.

"I love you," Fíli mumbled into her neck.

"I love you too, my little lion cub," said Dís. Fíli made himself comfortable at her side, and she closed her eyes, content.

In her mind's eye, she saw Fíli, red-faced in a little red costume, and she giggled.


End file.
